


Back To Before

by SilverFliesInBlueSugar



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: (temporary), Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Pining, Romance, Transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22057339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFliesInBlueSugar/pseuds/SilverFliesInBlueSugar
Summary: Angel Dust didn't want to wake up human again, he didn't want to have to deal with everyone else being freaked out, and he definitely didn't want to deal with just how fucking hot Alastor sounded right now.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Comments: 35
Kudos: 463





	1. Chapter 1

When Angel woke that morning to screams, he found that while something was clearly wrong, he was simply too tired and hungover to bother caring or investigating.

Ignoring the strange jumbled discordant cacophany of yells and thumps and whatever else was happening outside of his door, he stumbled his way blearily to the bathroom, for once forgoing his needle in favour of his toothbrush, looking up into the bathroom mirror.

He blinked once. Twice.

An ashy-brown eye blinked back at him.

For a second, he didn't react. Then he screamed, and nearly fell over backwards, misplaced eye continuing to blink rapidly behind a veil of dyed blond and brown hair. They were how he remembered from his humanity, one still normal, the other an empty space of bloody raw flash, the eye completely gone. Still oh so disgusting. He shut his eyelid over the empty socket.

There was a sound of alarm from outside his door before it was shoved loudly open, hitting against the wall and almost flying from it's hinges. Charlie stood there, looking like she was having the most stressful day of her life, half bent over as she gawked at him.

"Oh, not you too!"

He glared at her, slightly hysterical already, turning back to stare in the mirror, scarred hands moving to fist into his long hair. "What the fuck is this shit?! What's going on?!" he cried out, anxiety pushing his voice's pitch up.

He was dressed as he had before he had died, and even his MAKEUP was the same, the bleeding eyeliner running down his cheeks with heavy dark eyeshadow. Thank god his makeup at least covered his embarassing freckles, though that was obviously the least of his concerns right now.

He was in a light pink pinstripe suit, a similarly designed trillby hat on his mop of hair, and a dark marroon bowtie sat at his throat. Two black half-palm gloves covered his fingers and a part of his hand.

It was so familiar, but so, so unexpected. What the fuck was happening? Why was he HUMAN again?!

Charlie bit her lip and grabbed him by the arm. He grimaced, feeling faded cuts and drug scars ache at her grip. He certainly hadn't missed _those_ , and remembered being incredibly glad that scars didn't transfer when he first fell to Hell and attained his demonic form.

She dragged him outside, murmering something about getting everyone together, and as they walked he found himself balking at the sight of other humans, of varying age, in the halls and on the stairs and in doorways, shouting and fighting and staring at themselves. Evidently this had been the ruckus that had woke him up.

His mind swum.

When they reached the main room, he felt his jaw drop.

He recognised everyone, could tell who they were, perhaps just on instinct. Some were speaking at varying volume, which also helped in placing them.

Husk was downing alcohol at the bar as usual, though he somehow looked even more stressed than normal. He had combed back dark hair, nearly black, with some streaks of grey showing his age. His eyes were a dark shade of brown, and he just mainly looked like he wanted to die a second time. So not any different than the usual, honestly.

Vaggie was stood nearby, screaming something at a man in quite aggressive spanish, with her darker skin and light brown hair, grey eyes narrowed in frustration as she berated. Her attire wasn't much different than the usual, honestly, a shirt that slipped off her shoulder to expose her bra strap and knee high stockings.

The man she was shouting at was clearly Alastor, with his same large grin and red eyes, though his eyes were more coppery than the neon crimson Angel had become accustomed to (and infatuated with after he had developed his ridiculous crush on the man), and his grin was full of shining white teeth instead of gleaming gold. He was smartly dressed in a faded brown suit, and seemed a little awkward without his cane, stood strangely, as if with a limp. His hair was swoopy and chocolate coloured, and his hands, which were held in clenched fists, were an odd shade of pink, as if they had been repeatedly burnt, with small white scars overlapping the already marred skin.

Charlie, it seemed, was unaffected by all of this, which he supposed made some level of sense. She had never been a human.

Still.

"What the shit is going on?!" he shouted, and the room quieted as all eyes swivelled to pin him down. From the corner, he noted the presence of a short asian looking woman, with almond shaped black eyes and short curly black hair. She was grinning nervously and bouncing up and down. Strangely enough, her face seemed to be bruised slightly.

...Was that Nifty?

"Ah, you're 'ere!" Alastor exclaimed, and Angel blinked dumbly. The fuck was that accent? It was rather heavy, and somewhat french. Cajun? It was kinda hot... though hearing Alastor speak without a radio filter and generic accent was very odd and was still scrambling his brains even as it made his dick very happy. "Moi Cher, good of you to fin'lly arrive!" he made a sweeping forward gesture. "Come 'ere so i may explain!"

He almost said 'fuck no' and left, but this curiosity overrid his annoyance at being ordered to do something.

He walked over, and listened.


	2. Chapter 2

"The fuck?" Angel blinked dumbly a few times. "So Hell is basically _on the fritz?_ " 

"Essentially, if you want to put it like that, oui" Alastor snorted. "Non personne knows what is 'appening, zo we can only assume. But dere isn't much other scenario to t'ink of. Even Luzifer is struggling to understand - and 'e seems to 'ave reverted back to 'is angelic form!"

Angel's jaw dropped. "He's a fucking ANGEL again? Wow... I don't think that woulda went down too well with, like, anyone"

Charlie stepped in, wringing her hands together. "I think the imps and i are the only ones not affected by what's happening, since we were born in Hell" she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "As far as we can tell, every demon has reverted. It's been slightly inconsistent, though. Some demons have reported still being able to use the full extent of their powers... Whereas some have lost use of them entirely"

"For the most part, overlords have been fine, unfortunately" Vaggie groused from beside her girlfriend, keeping a tight grip on her spear. "I'm stuck with the one spear; i haven't been able to manifest any more. Creepy grin over here has been mostly fine, though"

"Haha, yes!" Alastor smirked, fingers curling and uncurling. "Though ah 'ave been struggling to summon my radio staff or regular voice - it's very disconcert'en! Ah 'ave also lost some use of mon shadow" he looked pointedly behind him at a shadow that was clearly still there, but seemed a lot more... Faded than usual. Lighter.

"Speaking of voice..." Angel felt his face flush even as he smirked coquettishly. "What's with that hot as hell accent you've been hidin' from me, smiles?" he let his voice dip into a purr.

Alastor went visibly red, and seemed to inch backwards slightly.

"Oh, don't make fun of him" Husk scoffed from his bar, voice somewhat scratchier and slurred than usual. Angel blinked in surprise as the older man spoke. "He's already insecure about it, why make that shit worse?"

"Insecure?" Angel reeled. "Why the fUCK-"

"Anyway!" Charlie cut in, grin forced. "We need to talk about what we'll do until all of this is resolved! I don't think we should just act as normal, especially since we're all now either weaker or entirely powerless. And i don't want to lose anyone"

As Charlie continued to speak Angel couldn't help but get distracted looking at Alastor. He had already fallen for the other man's demonic form, but he had to admit he was just as entranced by his human form. God. He was beautiful no matter how he looked. Angel grimaced slightly as his heart throbbed almost painfully.

He also couldn't help but zero in on the other's hands. Even in demon form Alastor's hands were unusual in appearance, looking entitely different than the rest of his body, and evidently this was the reason. His hands were heavily burn scarred, a light shade of red with little cross shaped white scars. It was a little disturbing; how the hell did he get such specific yet severe scarring? Had be been tortured for whatever reason?

Then again, Angel wasn't flawless either. If his form was the exact same as it had been before he died, he knew he must be coated in gunshot and knife wounds. Perhaps even some scars from beatings.

Ugh.

With that thought, he realized with some idiotic kind of surprise that his family would also have turned into humans. He couldn't help the fond smile as he imagined their reactions, even as thinking of them shot a bolt of sour into his heart.

Molly would probably be ecstatic to be back and 'hot as shit' again. Arackniss he doubted would care, though he might enjoy having back the height he lost in his demonic form.

And pop...

His thoughts went bitter then, so he pushed them away. His back ached with unpleasant memories.

He zoned back in as Charlie finished speaking, and just shrugged and turned. "Whatever you just said, I'm just going to lie down in my room" he informed her blandly, darting upstairs before she could protest.

Back in his room, he found suddenly that it was a little hard to breathe.

For some reason, earlier, with all of the shock and confusion, he had been able to cope with this. With turning back.

Not anymore.

Because clawing at his face, at his eye, he remembered. Being shot, the agony of both the physical pain and of the betrayal, seeing his brother's wide eyes, hearing the gunshot after he had already ran away.

He had thought his elder brother was shooting after him at the time, trying to finish the job. He found out long after he died that he had shot himself.

He ran his finger over the needle marks, and remembered injecting the deadly dose of pcp, of falling into a haze, of slipping from the banks into the water. Of staring up at the starry sky and remembering how his child self had been told that when people die, they become stars.

'How stupid' he had remembered thinking right before his heart stopped.

He ran his finger over the slighly uneven skin of his wrist, feeling the subtle dips and rises, and remembered those dark nights after a mission or beating (especially after his mother had died) where he couldn't take it anymore, where he stole a knife from the kitchen, where he-

Well. That was history. He had dropped it a while ago, and hadn't done it since dying. Something about the scars made him nostalgic in some sick sort of way, though.

There was a knock on his door, and he jolted, eyes wide as he wiped his eyes (when had he started crying slightly? What kinda pussy was he?!) and pulled the door open.

Alastor.

The red deer demon spoke, and Angel blinked in surprise at his voice. It was a strange mix of his Cajun and normal Transatlantic accent, with a very slight radio filter on top. It was like neither voice he had prior heard from the demon. "Angel my good fellow, are you quite alright?" he peered down at the morose spider.

"Huh. You sure recovered your radio voice fast" Angel forced his usual smirk on despite the way his stomach turned and his eyes stung. "We turning back to normal already?"

"Ha! Non!" Alastor chuckled. "You are very desperate i zee. Well, I'm afraid we will be stuck a while longer. I simply appear to be getting slightly more control over such t'ings as my intonation!" he seemed to grimace whenever French crept out in his voice.

"The accent is cute, you should use it more" Angel pouted. "Dunno why Husk said you're all insecure about it - it's great. I like it, at least" he felt his cheeks turn red.

Alastor averted his eyes, coughing into his balled hand, and once again Angel's eyes were drawn to the reddened skin. He spoke before he could think.

"Hey, uh, can i ask what the hell happened to your hands? To make 'em, like, look like that? Cus that... ain't normal"

Alastor seemed to tense up completely at that, eyes narrow as he assessed Angel, almost as if sizing up a threat, before sighing, smile still in place, and shaking his head.

"I think you'll find that's none of your business, mon sucrée cherie"

Angel watched him walk away, and wondered why the fuck he was just called 'a sucky cherry' or something.

French was weird.

**Author's Note:**

> https://discord.gg/aj8HGvb
> 
> RadioDust Discord Server


End file.
